Snug behind a tree, Apollo waited patiently for his opportunity, clutching the flask of bubbling red liquid with great care.

Risking a glimpse, he saw the man still hunched over, working meticulously. He appeared to be modifying his machine. Perhaps it was broken? Sneaking in as many glances as he could, Apollo found himself sweating from the anxiety.

Then the man got up, and without warning began to walk toward Apollo. Apollo's mind raced in response, not understanding how he could possibly know. He intentionally chose the spot with the thickest brush. Anyone would have walked around it, yet here the man was walking straight for it.

Cursing silently, Apollo ducked into the brush as quietly as he could, soon laying on his belly with his eyes closed. He held his breath, praying the man wouldn't find him.

Then he heard a loud whirring noise, accompanied by the air surrounding him heating up unbearably.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you now," the gruff man threatened, all while the air continued to get hotter and hotter.

Apollo's heart popped out of his chest. The man stood right above him, the presumably deadly machine likely pointed right at him.

Mechanically, Apollo hid the potion resting in his hand deeper into the brush. "I'll do anything you want," he finally spoke, words carefully chosen, still face-flat on the ground.

"How were you planning on taking me out?" the man spoke, fly landing on his stubbled chin. He didn't even blink.

"With a potion I made, so I could put you to sleep and steal your device to study it," Apollo snuck in a lie. The potion definitely would have killed him.

The man seemed to contemplate for a second, the fly finally leaving his chin. After a long, uncomfortable silence, the man gave his verdict. "I'll let you live if you help me kill someone."

Finally lifting his head to face him, Apollo stared right at the man's weapon, heart full of hope.

"Where and when?"